


In the Closet

by punkrockgaia



Category: Welcome to Night Vale
Genre: Adolescence, M/M, Monsters, internalized homphobia
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-08-30
Updated: 2014-08-30
Packaged: 2018-02-15 11:23:10
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 306
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2227209
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/punkrockgaia/pseuds/punkrockgaia
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Both Cecil and Carlos have spent their share of time in the closet...</p>
            </blockquote>





	In the Closet

**Author's Note:**

> I got a new computer, so I'm sifting through the buckets of documents I was too lazy to name, and I came across this drabble. It's not much, but I think it's kinda cute. 
> 
> Cecil and Carlos in this story are both midway through adolescence, maybe 15 or so.

Carlos is _never coming out of the closet._

Metaphorically, of course.

He's not dumb enough to not know what he is. He's known it since the first time he dreamed of Sanjeev. Of him and Sanjeev. Naked. And then him and Raul. And him and Ace Frehley. And him and the bus driver of the number seven crosstown. No, he wasn't dumb.

And that's why he's never coming out. There's no benefit to it. It isn't logical. For one thing, his dad would kill him. That might even be worthwhile, if it meant that someone would love him for a change, but that isn't going to happen. All his friends are straight as can be, he's sure of it. Everyone is. Everyone but him.

He sighs deeply, then picks up the small, velvet bag that holds his dice. Nope, he can stay in the closet forever. It's nice in there.

*************  
Cecil is _never coming out of the closet._

Literally, of course.

He knows what's out there. One of those gooey things that's been cropping up all over the house. They used to be smaller, like the size of an apple, but the one that's just outside the door is the size of a cantaloupe, and chased him into the dark, musty-smelling space in which he now finds himself. 

_Maybe it's gone,_ he thinks. His stomach lurches as everything goes blurry in front of his bottom eyes. He _pushes_ with his mind and his third eye focuses on the area just outside the door.

The thing is still there. Now it has teeth, too. And friends. Four of them. And they all look hungry. Ugh.

Resigned, he shifts his focus back to his immediate surroundings. He sighs deeply, then makes himself comfortable on the floor. Nope. He can stay in the closet forever. It’s nice in there.


End file.
